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... veryone; the night wind weaved through the city towers, carrying the lingering scent of blood. Xiulote’s smile paused in the wind. His expression instantly turned solemn, focusing on the cloth bag in Chiwaco’s hands.
"The chief of Tarasco? Bring it here, open it!"
The trusted aide promptly stepped forward and carefully opened the cloth bag. An aged, white-haired head was presented before everyone. The head’s features were old, the expression peaceful, the eyes closed, with only t ...
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